


Spoon Theory (ISh)

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: Dream Team Fics (Lol So Original) [32]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Food mentions, Forgetting to eat, Gen, Headaches, Hypoglycemia, I need a nap, Minor Anxiety, Nausea, Panic Attacks, Passing Out, Restlessness, Spoon Theory, Streaming, Swearing, TWs:, The author should be sleeping, and tht title, anyways no beta i'm too eugh for that but i might come back and try to fix it, body: lol how about no, chocolate milk helps, i do not own a service dog, it has struck again, low protein, me: let's do a fic today!, nondiabetic hypoglycemia, pog au, request, seriously, sorry - Freeform, tagging this thing took me ten minutes and focus i didn't have, this is based on research from videos by service dog handlers, title suks, tommy passes out lol, yeah i have like no spoons left, you know that thing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: Tommy passes out while streaming. With a facecam. In front of several hundred thousand viewers. And to top it all off, he’s home alone.
Relationships: Eret & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: Dream Team Fics (Lol So Original) [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012464
Comments: 31
Kudos: 1046
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Spoon Theory (ISh)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elyrenotfound](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elyrenotfound/gifts).



> Suggested by “elyrennotfound”, so thanks for that! So, I hope you didn’t mean the whole anxiety attack episode kind of thing, I went with the distinctly more dramatic one of passing out because the first time I passed out in the past two years, pretty sure I accidentally traumatised three little kids by dropping and hitting my head on a marble floor while behind them in the breakfast line. (It was not fun, and to top it all off I had just come out and then we went on the cruise so when I came back with a big ol’ bruise on my face people thought my parents had hit me. But no, it was just a marble floor and my blood sugar. I was testing gravity, it works, you don’t have to worry).  
> Let’s do this.

To be fair, Tommy didn’t _not_ eat because he didn’t want to.

He didn’t eat because he physically couldn’t stand the thought of food without an intense wave of nausea rushing over him. So, he skipped breakfast…and maybe also the snack Phil and Wilbur constantly told him to eat. He was fine, he’d be fine. Of course he’d be, he’d skipped meals before.

Besides, he had a stream to do, and he was not skipping out on them _again_.

Staring at the screen, he frowned again. His chat was yelling at him for whatever he wasn’t doing, to pay attention or something else like that. Running a hand over his face, he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, shifted back in his seat and tried to ignore the headache. His jaw hurt, too, and the headache was probably the culprit for that. The headache…well, it probably had something to do with the fact he hadn’t really eaten that day.

Tapping his fingers on his desk, he looked around his room and then looked back to the computer screen. Fiddling with his bracelets, he swallowed and looked at the Minecraft in front of him for a few moments. Something was up. He could see the sunlight coming through his windows and the fan was blowing behind him and he paused for a second to roll back and grab the figures on his desk and sat there for a minute. Pausing, he glanced up, then swore and rolled back over, “Sorry, I’m just— _super_ , uh…distracted today. Don’t know why.”

_Distractinnit_

_Where’s Tubbo_

_Lol_

_Homealoneinnit_

“Shush, lemme focus boys.” Tommy glanced over when he noticed Pog moving. His head was still pounding, and he glanced at the screen again with a pause.  
“Guys, Pog’s here. Pog, come say hi.” She trotted over, licking his hand and then hopped up to rest her paws on his leg. “No, Pog, I’m fine. I’m fine, babygirl. Guys, Poggers.” She licked her lips, stared at him for a few moments with her tail half-wagging. “Hi.” Leaning in, he kissed her forehead and she pawed at his knee again. “I’m fine.

_Doggo_

The chat kept going wild with Pog’s presence, and Tommy turned back to Minecraft and then paused. “Poggers, can you get my blanket?” He asked softly. Trotting over to the bed, she grabbed the blanket and brought it back. “Sorry, guys, I’m just—it’s cold in here.”

_Turn off your fan then!_

The world started to load, going _way too slowly_ for his taste. He took a breath, cursing under his breath and then glancing down to see what the chat was saying. And what Pog was doing. She was bugging him again, still tasking. “Calm down, I’m alright. Pog—Pog, go lay down.”

Maybe he shouldn’t be ignoring his service dog, but he didn’t feel like stopping the stream.

“Ugh, this is slow.” Sighing, he tapped his fingers against the desk, shifted how he was sitting about twenty times more than he normally did. There was something sticking in his throat he kept having to swallow past, and he eventually tugged his headphones off in annoyance because the music was making his stomach twist and his head pound. “Sorry, guys, having some issues. I’m fine, I promise.” Holding up his hand, he glanced down as Pog kept alerting. His fingers were shaking violently, and he swallowed. “Oh. Uh, I’m—I-I’m gonna set up a timer and then I’m going to go make lunch, there’s only like fifteen minutes until then.”

Some people started fretting over him in the chat, and he set up the timer. A weird feeling settled over him, sort of like he was floating. The world was swirling. _Oh, that’s not good. That’s_ really _not good._

Laughing, he started cracking jokes when his Discord call was invaded by Eret and Ranboo. “Tommy! How you doing today?” Ranboo asked, punching his character in the shoulder.

Smiling, Tommy replied, “I’m doing great, don’t worry.” He yawned and stretched back, staring at his ceiling for a moment as darkness overtook his vision. As much as he wanted to, he physically couldn’t move.

“Tommy?” Blinking, he stared up at the ceiling for a minute. A worried tone edged into Eret’s voice, “Tommy, you alright? Tommy.”

“I’m good, I’m good.” Moving upright, Tommy sat up way too quickly and then grinned at the camera. His vision blacked out a few more times and he spaced out for a brief moment. When he jolted himself out of it, he grinned at the camera, “Sorry, guys, I’m fine. I’m just—I think I need to go eat.”

“Yeah, Tommy—Tommy, go get something to eat. We’ll entertain the stream while you’re out.” Ranboo jumped in, and Tommy swallowed before trying to push himself out of the seat. It took a bit more effort than he meant. Growling irritably, he slowly stumbled to his feet and away from the chair and to the kitchen.

He didn’t actually remember blacking out, just the sensation of something being wrong.

+++

**Ranboo -- > Wilbur**

_Tommy passed out_

_Wilbur_

_You need to get home_

_I don’t know where you are_

_But Tommy’s streaming and he’s on the ground_

_What?_

_Tommy is on the ground_

_He passed out_

_I think his blood sugar’s down_

_Wilbur?_

_Omw_

+++

Grabbing the keys, Wilbur half-forced the door open and sprinted up the stairs.

“Tommy!” He shouted, even if his brother couldn’t hear him then maybe the chat would and they wouldn’t be freaking out. Shoving the thought that Tommy might be hurt from his mind, Wilbur shouldered his brother’s door open and looked around. Sure enough, Tommy’s stream was laying. The blond himself was lying on his side on the carpet, Pog curled next to him and trying to get him to stir. “Tommy!” Wilbur dropped to his knees beside Tommy, shook his shoulder. Dull, half-open eyes stared past him, and for a brief second Wilbur couldn’t tell if he was breathing. “Tommy, come on, open your eyes. Tommy. Techno, go get—get him something! Phil, stream!” Nodding, Phil swept by and turned the stream off, with a quick goodbye stating they were having some medical issues and that Tommy would be fine. Leaning over him, Wilbur caught his little brother blinking. “Tommy, hey, come on.”

Tommy jolted, then looked around for a moment. Blinking slowly, he paused, and clarity seemed to cross his face…and then he started panicking. Gasping, he clawed at Wilbur’s wrists while Pog started tasking, and Wilbur moved back to let her do what she needed to while still letting Tommy cling to him. “Hey, hey, bud, it’s okay.” Phil reassured from a few feet away, slowly moving to the carpet. Tommy’s eyes flicked around.

In the doorway, Techno appeared, holding a glass and a straw. Walking over, he knelt down as Tommy kept hyperventilating. Pog’s presence on his chest forced him to slow his breathing. Every so often, she would start licking his face, kept his breathing where it needed to be instead of the fast-paced hitch.

Stroking Tommy’s hair, Wilbur glanced around and noticed that Tommy was still on Discord, which meant that unless Eret and Ranboo had both left, the chat could probably still hear him. He pulled away, let Phil take his place, and then moved to the computer. Log out of Discord, shut down OBS and Twitch, check in with Ranboo and Eret. That’s what he needed to do.

Glancing back at Tommy, Wilbur mused that there was a bit more, but that would come with time.

+++

Tubbo appeared around dinner, clearly frantic and having run quite a bit in a very short amount of time.

Laying on the couch, sipping chocolate milk from a straw (it had a lot of protein and sugars, and it kept Tommy quiet for a little while without hurting his stomach), Tommy waved at him. “Tommaye!” Running over, Tubbo skidded on the wood floor and then slammed into Tommy in a hug. Wilbur winced in the kitchen at the sound. They’d be fine, though, they always were. After all, both of them were built like they were made of Jell-O, not glass. So, he rolled his eyes and went back to setting out some more snacks. It wasn’t that Tommy was fragile, they just…well, he’d fallen, and Phil didn’t want him walking. If he complained, he could complain if he wanted to. If he didn’t, then…good for him. Ranboo had texted, asking how he was doing.

Walking out, Wilbur set the plate down and watched as Tommy flashed him a grin, “Thanks, Wilbs.” Scoffing, Wilbur smacked his knee with a hand.

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

+++

**TommyInnit** @tommyinnit . 10m

[photo ID of Tommy lying on the couch with Tubbo behind him, jokingly saluting the camera while holding a glass of what is definitely chocolate milk]

I lived bithces

**Author's Note:**

> We’re going to ignore the fact that I mistyped “bitches” because that’s funnier and also on-point for me and possibly Tommy as well. Anyways, if you all know the spoon theory I don’t know if I count for this but I feel sick enough and I’ve had a mix of a headache, jaw pain, and then my protein levels were low enough it took me two hours to get out of bed and changed, then downstairs to grab a bowl of cereal that took me an hour to eat compared to my usual ten minutes at most. So I have like…maybe two spoons and school easily took nine of the ones I had this morning. Anyways, hope it’s not too janky and I apologise if it is, I think I’ma go take a nap or something. I’m laying on my stomach and my arms are shaking holding me up lol, and I have to ask my parents to buy me some Gatorades so that the electrolytes make sure I don’t black out walking down the stairs some day.  
> Y’all are loved and appreciated and awesome and amazing, I hope you have a lovely day, and I hope to see you in the next one!


End file.
